Soy Sauce
by littleblackcupcake
Summary: "And dude," added Cam, holding up one of Derrick's hands in front of his face, "Where'd you get the sushi?"


A/N: I know I haven't done any Clique, but I needed a little break from vampires... It's super short!! Please show your love in a REVIEW!!!

Claire Lyons glanced over at the LBR's table while she stood in line with the rest of the Pretty Committee to get her usual sushi. Not that she really liked sushi, like the other girls. She just got it so Massie wouldn't have yet another reason to torment her.

The Losers Beyond Repair, also known as the people-other-than-the-PC, were one of Massie's favorite targets. Sometimes, though, Claire found herself wishing she were still one of them, still sitting over there having fun with Layne and Meena. The Pretty Committee's idea of fun was going shopping. For twelve hours. And then going home and trying on every single thing they had just bought.

When Claire was still on the PC's black list, she had mostly hung out with Layne and her friends. They were a little crazy, but crazy was fun. Dylan acted crazy all the time, and she had a secure spot at table 18. Sure, Massie and Alicia – and under their direction, Kristen and Dylan – had made her life living hell, but what was a little teasing among friends?

Claire sometimes felt like she was the handkerchief tied to a tug-of-war rope, being pulled sharply in one direction, then being tugged just as hard in the other. At one end of the rope was Massie. At the other was Layne. Lately, Claire had been pulled closer and closer to Massie, but now she wondered if she shouldn't just jump off the rope and choose for herself. Layne wasn't only fun, she was a good friend. She listened when Claire had problems. Massie only listened if there was a problem with her outfit or her Alpha status.

"Six-fifty." Claire paid it no mind, lost as she was in her memories of life as an LBR. "Six-fifty," said the voice again, more insistently.

"Oh. Right." Claire grabbed seven wrinkled dollar bills from her pocket and gave them to the woman, who handed her two quarters and turned to deal with the next customer.

Great. Now she had six dollars and fifty cents worth of disgusting raw fish drowned in soy sauce. _For that much, they should at least cook it, _she thought.

Claire walked, preoccupied, to Table 18 where the rest of the PC already sat. She could tell without looking up that they were all staring impatiently at her, willing her to walk faster so they could start their gossipfest.

Claire was two feet from the table when, still concentrating on the tile patterns on the floor, tripped over the outstretched leg of some random LBR. Her hands flung out involuntarily, instinctively catching herself before her face could hit the ground. The tray of sushi and soy sauce flew up in the air, and Claire watched as it tumbled over and over as if it was trying to get a perfect ten before it hit the perfect brown-haired head sitting at Table 18.

For a few moments, no one moved. Then, slowly, the whole cafeteria started to giggle, and then laugh, at Massie. Her whole head was covered in bits of rice and raw fish, and soy sauce dripped from her bangs into her furious amber eyes. _Uh oh, _thought Claire as Massie turned very, very slowly around. She lifted her hands up to her soaked hair and wrung it out onto the floor.

It was now so silent that Layne Abeley's muttered comment could be heard from the other side of the cafeteria. "She looks like my brother's horse after he gives her a bath," she whispered to her friends Heather and Meena. Claire shook on the floor, trying to slide backwards and away from the danger zone as fast as possible. Massie didn't acknowledge her, other than to send her an icy glare as she passed her. If looks could kill, not only Claire, but ever girl in the OCD cafeteria would be rotting in the Westchester cemetery. No one laughed at Massie Block and lived to tell the tale.

Massie stalked to the nearest bathroom and tried furiously to wipe the soy sauce off her hair. Her new haircut was completely ruined, as was her pride. Why had she let someone so... so _incompetent_, so jeopardizing of her very Alpha status, become part of the Pretty Committee? She had a reputation to uphold.

After trying unsuccessfully to get the mess out of her hair, Massie gave up and, with a quick glance out the door to make sure that no teachers were watching, stalked down the corridor, out the front door, and plopped down under the giant oak that was the PC's favorite place to sit and relax. She made no effort to preserve her skirt from the wet, muddy grass. She was too tired to do anything but send Isaac a text and hope that he got here soon with the limo.

She was interrupted from her state of relaxation by a pair of hands encircling her face and covering her eyes. "Guess who," said a distinctly male voice from behind her. It sounded like the speaker was trying to conceal laughter. Massie immediately tensed, while trying to quickly come up for a good reason for why her head looked like an Asian buffet. Only one person she knew would dare to touch her, outside the Pretty Committee, and none of them would be this childish.

"Derrington," she said challengingly, "What are you doing here? And during school, too." She paused, trying to think of what to say to make him leave. "You should probably go back to your school. And not tell anyone that you came here. Or that you saw me. You could get in trouble," she continued, trying to sound commanding.

Derrington's face wore an expression of undisguised hurt. "Why? Don't you want to see me?" he asked, sounding confused.

Massie sighed. "Puh-lease, Derrington," she said. "Of course I want to see you. But you are going to get in trouble, and besides, as you can see, I am not exactly in the best state to be seeing _anyone_ just now." It was difficult for her to say the last part, about her not looking her best. Because that was her motto, wasn't it? Be the best. Always.

Fortunately, at that moment, Isaac pulled up with the limo. "That's my ride! Bye," she called over her shoulder. To her dismay, Derrick had followed her to the limo, and slid in after her.

"You're not getting away that easily," he said. "Where are we going?"

"_We_ -- as in, Isaac and I -- are going to my house. I kind of need to shower," said Massie impatiently. "Now get out," she said, giving him a not-so-gentle shove in the back as spoke. He stumbled out of the limo, and before he could protest, Massie had slammed the black door and the limo had pulled away.

Derrick stood there dumbfounded for a few moments, and Cam and Josh rounded the corner of the building and headed over to him, looking him up and down. "Dude," said Cam, "What's up? You look like you just saw a ghost, or something."

"Yeah, and why are your hands covered in... is that mashed-up sushi?" asked Josh. "And soy sauce? You went and got food without us? I thought we ditched so we could hang out," said Josh, sounding confused and a little insulted.

Derrick looked up as though noticing them for the first time. "Oh, hey guys," he said. "I was just talking to Massie," he admitted. "She ditched too. She's pretty cool for a chick," he said, running his sticky fingers through his hair.

"Man," said Josh, "You're gonna mess up your hair like that." He shook his head when Derrick ignored him. He and Cam exchanged a look.

"Okay, Derrick," said Cam firmly. "We're going to get pizza. And you're coming," he added, "No buts about it." He and Josh each grabbed one of Derrick's arms and pulled him along. He stumbled behind them, still staring at the place where the limo had been a few minutes ago. "And dude," added Cam, holding up one of Derrick's hands in front of his face, "Where'd you get the sushi?"


End file.
